


Pray the Traveler My Soul to Take

by OfficiallyDva



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Destcember 2k18, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recreational Drug Use, The Last City, series of One-shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-05 19:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16816804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficiallyDva/pseuds/OfficiallyDva
Summary: A series of one-shots for #Destcember





	1. Just Trust in Me, My Gaurdian

**Author's Note:**

> **Day 1 of Destcember:** Guardian and Ghost
> 
> Unbeta'd. Go wild with pointing out my mistakes.

“Guardian-”

“Ghost.”

“Guardian,” Ghost tried again pausing to see if Enix would interrupt, he didn’t; there was nothing that had to be said, “we must go. There is nothing for us here.”

Enix remained silent, choosing to staring out over the fallen city instead of responding. Watching as smoke curled in the air and faded the higher it went into the night sky. He wondered if he counted all the stars above would receive a wish in return. 

“Guardian!” his Ghost hissed, now floating in front of his face. He responded with a hum, focusing on the rumbling beneath his feet as a cabal war machine drove by. The popping of gravel beneath its treads sounding like gunfire and making him tense and reach for the gun on his hip that wasn't there. Lost in the debris that surrounded him.

“We must go, _now_!” Ghost demanded, Enix is pretty sure if it had arms it would be shoving him down a path that lead to outside the city walls. Somewhere where the Cabal weren’t lurking around, guns at the ready.

There was a poke to his back and he made a confused noise. Another poke and he twisted himself to look behind him. The glowing face of his Ghost stared back at him.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice cracking and popping like an old radio, it was the first full sentence he said since this mess all started.

“Getting you out of here.” was his Ghost’s reply, rearing back for another attempt at trying to get him to move. 

“Why?”

His Ghost ran straight into his back once more, staying there hidden between the folds of his tattered cloak as it answered, “Because if we don’t,” the bots voice sounded small, scared, “We’ll die.” 

_We’ll die._

And the world came rushing back. 

Enix clutched at his chest, choking on air he didn’t need as he dropped to his knees with a loud smack. 

He couldn’t breathe. Why did he need to breath he wasn’t human. He didn’t have lungs.

**_He couldn’t breathe._ **

“Enix!” Ghost cried out, floating down and pressing its shell against his forehead. The bright blue light from its optic now soft and faded, comforting. Safe. He removed his hand from his chest. Reaching shakily to grab at his Ghost and clutch it close. 

He curled himself around the bot, “We need to get out of here.” Enix whispered. Finally getting with the plan.

“We will. I promise you. Because I am _your_ Ghost.”

Enix looked down at his Ghost sitting in his palm, hand still shaking, “And _I_ am your Guardian.”


	2. Getting Past the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Day 2 of Destcember:** The Last City
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Enix didn't like going into the city. Not after what he had seen during the Red War where he wandered aimlessly with his Ghost trailing behind him, both lightless and feeling empty. 

He shook his head to rid himself of the memories, the feelings. 

He looked down at the list in his hands instead, Hyperion just a little ways off peering through a shop window of trinkets and shiny baubles. 

_Child,_ he thought as a he watched his Ghost twist happily as the shop owner picked up one of the trinkets and show it off. As if the bot had any glimmer to spend on it. 

“Hyperion.” he called, tone clipped. 

His Ghost flinched, giving the shop owner a mock of a bow by tipping itself forward and then floating over to his side. Enix tipped his head to the side, one hand on his hip and the other holding the paper up, “You're supposed to be helping me find these things Shaxx wanted.” 

He watched as Hyperion's shell drooped, “I just wanted to look at the shiny things.”

“We don't have time to look at the ‘shiny things’, Hyperion.” Enix scolded, holding the list in front of his Ghosts’ optic, waiting for it to scan the paper once more.

There was a tinny sigh from the bot before its shell expanded and a soft blue light filtered over the ripped out page, “There's a shop a few streets over selling the sweet Shaxx wants.” 

“Another one?” Enix said, looking at the mess called Shaxxs writing and deciphering what the name of the item was.

“Mochi.” God, he remembered mochi. 

Shaxx had given him one to try when Enix had expressed that he didn't know what that was. He knew the treat would be sticky with it sticking to the container it was in. And what did you know, it was sticky. He felt the plates of his face shift into what he thinks is disgust as the sweet clings to his fingers. 

He had taken a glance at Shaxx who was vibrating where he stood in giddiness at seeing someone eat mochi for the first time. Enix took a deep breath and popped the treat in his metal gob. He spent the next several days after that digging sweetened, gelatinous rice flour out of his mouth plates. 

Overall it was a horrible experience but it was nice seeing Shaxx happy after Cayde's death.

The jingle of a bell had startled him out of his musings. The sound of the city surrounding him once more. Enix looked over at Hyperion, “This the place?”

“No, it's a drug ring.” was the sarcastic reply, it was met with silence, “Yes, this is the place. Pay attention next time.” and then his Ghost bobbed away from him, more interested in the confections displayed then having a conversation. 

‘Pay attention’ he mimed with his hand, letting out a huff of irritation.

He hated the city. 

It made him tense and wary of what may lurk in the shadows. Memories of what had happened always causing his breath to hitch and his heartbeat to kick up a notch every time he stepped foot in the city.

But now...

He took in a deep breath and held it. Letting the chatter of the civilians wash over him. Revealing in the sound of _life_. Far, far, from what it was then.

It happened less and less. Those feelings and memories no longer plagued him as much as they once did. He was finally able to breathe. 

Enix supposes he should thanks Shaxx for that. Always tasking him with running the man's errands in the city. He releases the breath he was holding, shaking his head all the while. 

He steps into the shop for Shaxx's treats. And if he buys more than what the man wants and that bauble Hyperion was looking at, well no one but him needs to know.


	3. And so the Darkness Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Destcember Day 3:** Without the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd.

There's a soft mechanical hiss as the vial releases itself from its port and falls onto his cot with a soft thump. It's silent on his ship. Cold and lifeless. He misses his bed back at the Tower. Misses sleeping next to Shaxx and curled up in the mans arms. 

Instead, he sleeps on his ship under thin blankets and on an even thinner mattress. His only company being Hyperion. 

Enix picks up the empty vial and tosses it somewhere on his ship. Listening to it roll across the floor until it stops as he stares blankly at the wall across from him, mind fuzzy as the drug he takes as a horrible coping mechanism runs through him. He falls back onto the cot heavily, a sigh escaping his mouth. Enix turns his head, vision swimming slightly, to look over at Hyperion who is docked at the hull of his ship already asleep. He wishes that where him. If he wasn't plagued by nightmares every time the sandman comes by that is. 

Another sigh is heaved, this one longer than the last as he curls up on his side on the cot. Blanket askew underneath him. He is way too out of it to crawl underneath them. Limbs already feeling heavy and sluggish. Enix looks back towards Hyperion, wondering what his Ghost is dreaming about. Do Ghosts dream of Ghost shaped sheep? He lets loose a snort as he imagines what that would look like.

It's not long, wandering from idiotic topic to idiotic topic, before he falls asleep. Mind blissfully empty as he gets to meet the sandman for the first time in two weeks as the comforting darkness pulls him under.

The city is burning. 

The smell of burnt rubber and something else he doesn't want to recognize fill his olfactory sensor. 

His body isn't light and airy anymore. Its heavy and ringing with pain. His right arm is gone, wires peaking past the joint and sending out sparks of electricity. 

“Hyperion-!” he yells when he doesn't see his Ghost nearby, his voice cutting off at the last syllable as he stumbles on to his feet, looking around wildly for his Ghost. He opens his mouth to call for Hyperion again only for there to be static. The panic at not immediately seeing his Ghost anywhere nearby has the held back panic clawing its way up his chest. He can feel it digging into his throat and making him choke.

Enix in a panic induced haze breaks out into a run, frantically searching the around for Hyperion. 

_Ghost! Where is my Ghost!_

Distantly he hears the Cabal marching down a street. He pays it no mind as he upturns a large piece of rubble to check for his Ghost. Nothing. He holds back a sob as he continues his scramble down the depleted street.

“-dian? Enix!” he suddenly hears, his head snapping up in the direction his name came from.

His feet thud against the ground as he runs towards where he presumes his Ghost is. Elation filling his chest and replacing the mounting panic that had consumed him during his search. Skidding across loose gravel as he turns a corner sharply, he can see Hyperion's blue light against the walls of the alleyway. Relief pours through him. 

_His Ghost! Ghost is alright, safe. Safesafesa-_

And the crack of a Cabal gun sends him into a nearby wall. The relief he felt fading into pain and back to panic. The slug having hit his remaining arm and piercing through his frame. He feels the oily black not really blood flow from the wound. Dripping onto the street and pooling underneath him. He looks from his destroyed arm to his Ghost. 

There's another Cabal gun pointed at Hyperion. It's shell shaking and twisting in fear. Enix hisses as he moves, or try to moves as another slug hit him in the chest. 

“Fuck-” he gasps wetly, oh great now his voice works. He looks at Hyperion again, wanting, needing, to be close to his Ghost, his safety. 

“The lights gone.” his Ghost whispers, somehow not drowned out by the Cabal speaking above them, “it's gone. If we make it out, I won't be able to fix you.” 

Enix shakes his head, too in pain to his speak. He swears he hears Hyperion let out a robotic sob, “I'm sorry I couldn't save you.” 

The Cabal have stopped speaking and are now looking between the both of them. 

“The light is gone,” the soldier who had its gun pointed at Hyperion pushes it closer. A direct hit. Enix tenses, absolute fear running tearing through his system.

“There's nothing I can do to save you.” There's nothing he can do. He can't move. He can't save his Ghost. All he can do is watch.

“I'm so sorry-” a loud crack rings out in the empty alleyway and just like that Hyperion is gone. It's shell broken to pieces and scattering across the dirty ground. 

The light is gone.

And so is he as he stares down the barrel of that same gun that killed his Ghost.


	4. Cold Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Destcember Day 4: Little Joys**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd and posted a day early!

The bioluminescent liquid sloshed in the vial as he rolled it between his hands. Looking out over the twinkling lights of the city down below him. The night peaceful. A harsh wind blew past him, it's cold touch sending a shiver down his spine. In hindsight he should have worn a shirt before stepping out into the cold winter night. Enix paid no mind as he heard the sliding door to their apartment open, still rolling the vial between his hands, if only to give them something to do instead of pick at the hole one the right side of his head. He didn’t jolt either as strong arms wrapped around his waist. One hand pressed against his stomach and the other his chest. 

“You’re cold.” the deep voice murmurs, his lover's face tucker into the crook of his neck. 

Enix gave a soft laugh, “Of course I am cold you big lug, I’m made of metal.” he stopped messing with the vial and held it in his left while raising his right hand up to settle over a the back of a warm neck. The grip around him tightened, pulling him closer into a broad chest. 

“Ah, you were smart and wore a shirt before coming out here.” He hummed, scratching his fingers through the dark hair of his other. 

“Unlike you.” 

He hit the man on the head lightly, “Yeah, yeah, yet you're still holding on to me.”

There wasn’t an answer. But their didn't need to be, he knew what was being said with the way the hands on him dug deeper in the metal of his frame and synthetic skin. Enix dropped his head to his chest, breathe shaky, “I’m still here Shaxx,” he whispered, picking his head back up to stare out past the city and past it’s towering walls, “I’m still here.”

It was the little things in his life that kept him grounded in reality. He gently nudged the body behind him with his shoulder, tucking the vial in his sleep pants pocket, “Let’s go back inside before you freeze to me.” 

There was a huff of laughter in his auditory receptor, the sound filling his heart with joy and warmth, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Hush you.” his face plates shifted into a semblance of a smile as he turned around in the arms that refused to let him go and face Shaxx. It’s the little joys in his life that keep him from drowning in the dark abyss of his memories. Keep him grounded in reality, “Thank you.” he whispers, pressing his forehead against the taller mans, “For everything.”


	5. This isn't a Hallelujah

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Destcember Day 5: Black and White**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted two days early and still forever unbeta'd.

The Ascendant plane.

It’s name made it sound like it was a place where gods went to live and die. 

And in a way it was.

The darkness that had infested him from the day he died to the day he was resurrected as a Guardian grew stronger every time he stepped in and out of that place. He could feel it crawling through his system, corrupting it. Making him feel nothing. He pressed the heel of his palm over his helmet, right above where the hole was, as he stared up at the Taken rift that allowed him to cross over to the other side.

_If only it was permanent._

He dropped his hand back to hold onto his rifle, ignoring the soft crooning voice of the Whisper. Calling for him to kill, to feed off the light of his fellow Guardians light. 

Enix tightened his grip on the gun, like that would quiet the voice, and stepped forwards into the portal. The siren song of the Whisper now gone and replaced with many more voices. Each one grating on his mind and already causing him to get a headache. Standing on a platform in the middle of endless darkness he took everything in like he always did when he crossed over. He could never tell what was a shadow and what would lead to his death as blacks blurred together and the white light that paved the way blinding, a glaring contrast to the all consuming black. It wasn't helpful in the slightest.

Enix shivered as Toland appeared before him and began speaking. The mans voice drowned out by the others that wouldn’t shut up. He clenched his jaw and started forwards as the white blight of Toland disappeared and reappeared a bit further ways down. He sighed.

He hated the Ascendant plane. 

Too much black.

Too little white.

Nothing in between.

It was a place that begged for him to die like the god the Traveler made him out to be.


End file.
